


The Beginning of...

by Simply_Isnt_On



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I'm sorry if I cause feels, John/Molly fluff, Molly doesn't know Sherlock's alive, Post-Reichenbach, This story is almost complete fluff., This was not meant to be a feels-story, also fluff., relationship, shipping inside
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simply_Isnt_On/pseuds/Simply_Isnt_On
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly found John in the reception area. That alone wasn’t that unusual- more than once she’d even found him asleep here, waiting while Sherlock flitted around her lab at top speed, solving a crime or x-raying phones. No, what was unusual about today was that today, he was here alone. His eyes were red, though his jaw was firm and there wasn’t a trace of wetness. Today, he was here to see her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cumberette](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cumberette).



> This story is written for the fabulous cumberette (Tumblr), who is my Sherlock Secret Santa. Hope you like it, darling! :D  
> Also, there was no beta for this story, so if you spot anything wrong, don't hesitate to send me a comment. I need all the help I can get.

Chapter 1: After Molly found John in the reception area. That alone wasn’t that unusual- more than once she’d even found him asleep here, waiting while Sherlock flitted around her lab at top speed, solving a crime or x-raying phones. No, what was unusual about today was that today, he was here alone. His eyes were red, though his jaw was firm and there wasn’t a trace of wetness. Today, he was here to see her.

It had been months since he’d entered Bart’s, and in that time, he’d moved out, away from Baker Street. Sherlock was gone and buried, and after that day in the cemetery, he’d moved across London and avoided their usual haunts. Angelos, Bart’s, the Yard, 221B, all abandoned by him. Too painful. He was grateful that sometimes, he forgot that Sherlock was gone and headed for Baker Street after work, but mainly, he walked around with a lump in his throat that was painful to swallow around and made regular meals an impossibility. It reminded him somewhat of when his grandmother had died, when he was seven. He’d gone home after the viewing and funeral, and on the outside he’d been fine, while on the inside there was a dark cloud of grief settling over him.

“Ah, Molly, morning,” he said, holding out a hand to shake. When he’d done that, however, he simply stood awkwardly for a moment, as if lost in thought. She cleared her throat, and he blinked. “Er. I, um. Sherlock-,” he paused, swallowed. “I think he had an order in place to receive some body parts at regular intervals. I’m here to, ah.” He blinked and ran a hand over his face- the doctor was tired, and there were deep bruise-like marks under each eye. “Cancel it. I won’t be needing them.” He forced a smile and looked up at her.

Molly looked at John, really looked at him, for perhaps the first time ever. He was taking it well, Sherlock’s death. He hadn’t slept, that was obvious, though from what Sherlock had told her, he had trouble with PTSD and nightmares. So maybe, he was simply avoiding sleep until it was inevitable, to avoid the nightmares- or maybe, he’d been woken by them. She nodded.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. He used to have them ordered here, I guess to keep Mrs. Hudson having a heart attack over each delivery.” She smiled a little, in her timid way. “Not that she didn’t have one later, of course, when she found vascular tissue instead of pasta in your fridge,” she joked. And John, taken by surprise, chuckled. Some of the stress in his shoulders eased.

“I remember one time she found a liver and thought it was food. I believe she’d started to prepare it before Sherlock came home.” He made a face. “Didn’t turn out well. Don’t think I’ve eaten liver since. Not that I ate that one,” he hastened to explain, at the shocked face Molly made.

Molly nodded and grimaced at the idea.

“Right, well, I’ve got the papers in my office, I think, if you want to come back. You’ll have to sign for the order, and then you can cancel it.” She motioned with her shoulder, and John simply nodded, tucking his hands in his pockets, and followed her into the lab.

***

He had to stop for a moment when he saw Sherlock’s spiky handwriting on the forms, impatiently scrawled and leaning to the left- he’d had a terrible habit of tilting things he was writing on to the right. The papers were old and filed at the back of the file cabinet, as if he’d signed them years ago. Almost as if to confirm it, the date beside the signatures read seven years ago.

“He’s been receiving body parts this long?” John inquired, turning to Molly, who stood at his shoulder, calmer than he’d ever seen her. She nodded.

“It’s allowed. Lestrade’s carrot, I think, to stay clean. He slipped in a clause about it when I wasn’t looking, so Sherlock couldn’t get the parts if he started with the drugs again,” she explained. She reached over and selected a paper. “This one limits which bits he can get, and only the surplus- so, no brains, and nothing that can be donated.” She shuffled through the papers, and came up with a few forms from near the bottom, all slots blank except for near the bottom, where Sherlock had again scrawled his impatient ‘S. Holmes’. “Here are the ones you need,” she said. “I think he anticipated me filling them out when the time came, to be honest.”

John nodded and took the papers, brushing her finger as he did. “Ahm. Right. So, I’ve got to accept responsibility before I cancel?” he asked, looking at her. He gave a strained half-smile. “Always wanted access to miscellaneous body parts,” he said, then cleared his throat and returned his attention to the pages in his hands. He flipped through them, then reached for a pen and set them on the table beside him. He didn’t look up as he filled them out, avoiding the microscope he’d found Sherlock behind that first day.

When he was done, he straightened and turned to Molly, holding them out to her. “How are you?” he asked abruptly, gazing at her face. “Alright?” She accepted the papers and nodded slowly, attempting a smile.

“I’m.. well, I’ve been better, but I manage. Still miss him though,” she said, gazing over his shoulder at the microscope, as if she could still see him there, hunched over it. She returned her gaze to John’s face and smiled. “We all do.” She ran a hand over her face, an opportunity which John took to do the same himself.

John nodded. “Right. Well, that’s… yeah.” He glanced at the door and pulled on his coat, which he’d set on the counter. He started to go, then stopped and turned back to her. “Molly. Do you. Um, would you like to get some coffee sometime? With me?” he asked hesitantly, eyes on her face.

Molly lit up, smiling brightly at him when she realized what he’d asked. “I- yeah. Yes, I’d really like that,” she said, nodding. She glanced down at the papers in her hands, then back at him. “Um. Saturday? I’ve got to work then, but maybe over lunch…” She trailed of as John nodded.

“Yeah, that’d be perfect. I’m working too, so maybe we can meet somewhere between here and the clinic?” he offered, completely focused on her now. Mentally he reviewed good cafes in the surrounding area. “Say, Ricky’s?” Ricky’s was a small bistro nearby where he’d sometimes got coffee when he’d been up all night on cases with Sherlock and needed help staying awake at work.

Molly nodded. “Sounds like a date,” she declared and smiled again before leading him back out of the lab. She had work to do, so she waved him goodbye in the lobby before disappearing back into her office, but all the way to the tube stop, he carried a warm feeling inside him. The tight knot in his throat loosened a little, enough that he was able to purchase a ham sandwich from a vendor outside the tube stop and get most of it down before his tube came and he had to bin it- he’d learned from experience not to test the limits of the ‘No Food’ rule.


	2. Ricky's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Molly's first date. Basically fluff, some small sadness, but that's to be expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter is much shorter than the last one, but only because there's less setting the scene going on and more just chatting and Molly/John.

Molly arrived first at the bistro, and took the time before John arrived to check her make-up. Through trial and error, she’d discovered that a little bit of lipstick and just a touch of eye-liner were usually enough, and she wanted to impress John. She chose a table, and was just considering ordering for them when John rushed in.

“Bugger me, but it’s cold out there,” he exclaimed, hurrying over to her table. He smiled and sat down across from her. “Already order?” he asked, tugging off his gloves and tucking them in his pockets. She shook her head.

“I was just about to,” she replied, and slid over one of the small menus for him to peruse. She subtly eyed him, and decided that he looked a little better than he had a few days ago. His cheeks were flushed, either from the cold or excitement, and he was smiling, even if it was pained.

“The croissants here are pretty good,” he commented, startling her from her reverie. He glanced up and grinned. “Used to come here after Sherlock had me up all night for cases. The Turkish coffee probably saved me my job on more than one occasion. Even if it does taste like tar,” he said, making a face. Molly smiled.

“Well then. Two regular coffees and a couple of croissants, how’s that?” she offered, reaching for his menu. She went over to the counter to order and came back with the coffee. “They’re just taking out a fresh batch, so I thought we’d wait,” she explained, reaching over to add some cream to her mug. She took a sip, and glanced over at the “You know, this if excellent. Wonder why I never came here before.”

John nodded, then, watching the counter, stood up. “Be right back,” he said with a wink, and returned moments later with their pastries. He set down their plates and took a swallow of coffee. “So. Tell me something, how’d you and Sherlock meet?” he asked after a moment.

Molly sat back in her chair and laughed a bit. “Well, how does anyone meet Sherlock?” she replied. “He just... showed up at Bart’s one day, badgering one of the coppers- Lestrade, come to think of it- to let him see a body. I forget which, it was awhile ago, but eventually Lestrade caved and told him to talk to me.”  Molly made a face at having him shoved off on her, then continued. “I didn’t really have a choice about it, and I guess Sherlock liked that, how I couldn’t really come up with a reason for him not to be there, because three days later he was back to test the affects of certain household chemicals on human cardio tissue. And that’s all she wrote, as it were, he became an almost permanent fixture at Bart’s.” She finished her coffee in one long swallow and smiled sadly. “Too quiet in the lab now.”

John nodded sympathetically and patted her hand. “Know what you mean,” he said quietly, and sighed, looking down for a moment. “Still miss him, you know?” he said after a moment. “Some days I wake up expecting to hear him rattling around in the kitchen, and then… he’s not.” He swallowed and blinked up at her, giving a wavery smile. “Sorry.” He picked up his coffee and took a sip, then set it down and smiled again, brighter now. “So. You grow up in London?” he asked, trying to guide the conversation away from Sherlock.

And for the next half-hour, they sat and chatted, exchanging childhood stories and making small talk. John found out that Molly shared an interest in science fiction, or rather, laughing at science fiction, and invited her over to watch a Marvel marathon the next week. She laughed and agreed, then happened to look up at the clock and notice the time.

“Oh! I’ve, um, got to get back. Break’s almost over,” she exclaimed, standing and grabbing her purse. John checked his watch and realized that he was running late too, and helped her pull on her coat before following her out the door. Outside, they stopped a moment to say goodbye, and he kissed her on the cheek and grinned again before hurrying away to catch his train.

And Molly? Molly stood watching him from outside the door for a full minute before turning away to head back to Bart’s, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So chapter 2! Please review, reviews are awesome. And cumberette? If you have any requests, now's the time! I don't see this story going beyond fluff, but anything's possible. :D Hope you enjoyed it.

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so, what'd you think? I'll publish the second chapter tomorrow, and probably get the rest of it up by Christmas day. So watch for it!   
> ...  
> Also, please review. Reviews are love. <3


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